Behind The Mask
by cooper159
Summary: AU-Set in Paris 1890, Jane Rizzoli, known as Signor Rizzoli has been hiding in the shadows of Paris for ten years, in an attempt to hide her disfigured face. Maura Isles, soon to be wed, moves to Paris with her Fiancé to start a new life. When their two worlds collide at a Masquerade ball, Maura discovers undeniable love and wonders can she show Jane true beauty lies in the heart?
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Rizzoli &amp; Isles, some of the characters in this story belong to Tess Gerritsen and TNT.

This story is completely inspired by Phantom of the Opera! One of my all time favourite musical!

I would like to thank **Ava** for beta reading this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter One**

The journey had been long. Long, dusty, bumpy and lonely, oh so _lonely_. Travelling from America to France had taken weeks; weeks of reading a neatly written parchment over and over again. Weeks of making small talk with passengers and asking strangers for directions. Weeks of sleeping on hard beds, uncomfortable floors and flea infested covers. After weeks and weeks of travelling, she had finally arrived at her destination; _Paris_. The young woman was enthralled looking out of the small window from the moving horse drawn carriage. She had never seen such tall, magnificently sculptured structures in all her life. All that could be seen were never ending buildings, crowds and crowds of people gathering on the streets, small stands selling flowers and fresh fruit with horse drawn carriages at every corner.

As the carriage continued through the exciting streets of Paris you could tell there was more than meets the eye. Although on the streets people seemed polite, the thick French accent filled your ears and glove covered hands greeted each other. Everywhere you glanced; there was a smile to be seen. However if you looked past the neatly dressed women, in large bustle dresses and excessive hats, the clean shaven men with top hats and monocles you could see the darker, hidden side of Paris. In every alleyway there were scarlet women dressed in low cut tops and high riding dresses, faces smothered in pale makeup and rosy pink cheeks trying to seduce men for money. It was a known fact that Paris was famous for prostitution, cat houses and the Moulin rouge, there was a reason it was known as one of the most romantic cities in the world.

The repetitive sound of the metal wheels clanging against the stone ground had stopped and pulled the young woman from her admiration of the world around her. Only the sounds of the horse banging its front hooves along the cobble street filled the surrounding area until the door to the carriage was pulled opened by a young boy dressed in muddy brown trousers and a once white shirt with suspenders holding the overly big bottoms up and a small cap, keeping his dusty brown hair from his eyes.

The young girl picked up the front of her fashionable dress and held onto her bag as she struggled to step down from the carriage. Nodding a silent thank you to the young boy, the woman glanced all around and saw she was in the middle of a small street, surrounded by a few buildings. There were copper and white painted shops and houses all around, standing tall, angling as though they were about to topple over, each one had the finishing touch of a French flag either on flagpoles or on balconies, blowing proudly in the slight breeze. The young carriage boy was busy pulling the ridiculous amounts of suitcases and boxes from the top of the carriage and from the inside and placing them down carefully on the ground next to the amazed woman.

As she was glancing around the town she wondered which one of these houses would be hers, which one she'd begin her studies in, which one her memories of her new life would start. The woman opened her purse to find the parchment; she knew by heart, word for word before pulling the neatly folded letter from the envelope and reading the address. Glancing around, she saw no street name or number as stated in the letter. Exhaling loudly, she brushed the wrinkles from her outfit before she looked down and examined her choice of attire. Throughout the journey through Paris, she'd noticed all the women were wearing overly bustled dresses and she began to wonder if maybe her mother's words were right, '_Bustle dresses are in'_. The child cursed her need to ignore her mother's kind hearted advice and knew she could do nothing but accept her clothing choice.

Her dress choice was long, dark purple and black and dragged along the ground as she walked. It was a two piece and had a matching purple coat with black fur on the outside and black buttons going down the front to match the black gloves and hidden shoes. The collar of her coat was shut tight up to the neck and matched the small hat that sat tilted on the girl's head. Hearing what sounded like a large item hitting the ground, the woman turned to face the young boy who was struggling with the woman's largest suitcase.

"Sorry Mademoiselle." The boy's strong French accent greeted her ears. As the girl was about to ensure it wasn't a problem, a familiar voice answered for her.

"It will be Madame soon." A tall man with a large build and short, neatly trimmed brown hair said with a strong American accent. The woman turned around so quickly she nearly lost her balance.

"Garrett?" The woman gasped.

"Maura, darling." Garrett smiled as he pulled her into a soft kiss.

"God, I've missed you." Garrett whispered into the blonde's ear.

"I've missed you too." Maura pulled back from the man and looked around the street.

"How was the journey? Not too uncomfortable I pray?" The American asked as he cupped his love's hands.

"You arrived a week earlier than I anticipated." Garrett continued before the girl could reply.

"Why is there a problem?" Maura questioned, she knew the man well enough to see the uncertainty in his eyes.

"Well the house isn't ready just yet." Garrett threw his love a charming smile.

"I haven't actually arranged a place for you to stay." He gave a crooked smile.

"Is there not a local Tavern or Inn?" Maura asked the dark-haired man.

"Well you see; I had originally planned to get you set up in the local Inn for a few months while I continued on with the house." Garrett brought a gloved hand up to his mouth and planted a kiss on the palm.

"As you know from my letters, I had ordered some things to be sent from Boston, furniture, wood, building materials etc. Just some odds and ends." The man cleared his throat.

"However, they never arrived and I fear that dreadful storm we had a few weeks back may have delayed their arrival." The dark haired man looked sheepishly at his fiancée.

"And well, I've been unable to progress in building our home, so you can see my dilemma." The slightly older man exhaled, it had been a dreadful few weeks.

"Can't you forget about them? I mean as you said they were _just some odds and ends._ We can start fresh buy the things we need here." Maura reasoned.

"Oh no, darling. You know how particular I am about certain things. Besides, we don't have the money to splash out on new furniture." The man smirked. Both Maura and Garrett had come from financially comfortable families but it was natural, from the moment a woman was engaged, her soon to be husband would support her and so he did. Maura hadn't accepted anything from her parents since the day she put on the ring, despite the amount they had offered, she'd never want to hurt Garrett's pride. However, Garrett was cut off the second he decided to move to Paris. His family thought it was a foolish move and thought a lesson needed to be taught, so he found himself without the finer things in life.

"And to top it all off, I'm having trouble finding an opening in an Inn or Tavern, they all seem to be fully booked." Garrett laughed.

"Well, I could just stay with you." Maura suggested.

"Oh my love, as much as I would adore to, it isn't proper, not until we are married." Garrett said playing with the engagement ring he could feel through the gloves.

"How far along is the house?" Maura asked her beloved.

"I've been building it on my own; so far it only has walls." Garrett laughed.

"What do you propose we do about the living arrangements?" Maura asked her fiancé, worried she'd have to go back to Boston until things were ready.

"For now, you can stay in the room I am currently renting. It's small and dainty and just fits one person, but it's enough. Besides, it's above the local dress shop." Garrett smiled; he knew how much Maura loved clothing.

"I actually hope to get something sorted this evening; there is a masquerade ball and I was invited. Well, the whole town is invited." Garrett said, pleased that he had such an invitation.

"A masquerade ball? That sounds marvelous. I've seen pictures in books of ladies dressed up for a ball but I don't think I own anything that even comes close to suitable." Maura said more concerned about what she would be wearing than her living arrangements.

"Whatever you wear, you will look as beautiful as the day I first saw you." Garrett charmed his fiancée. Maura smiled and took the offered arm.

"You, boy, bring the bags up to the room will you." Garrett demanded; the boy nodded and wiped the sweat from his forehead, he dreaded carrying so many suitcases and bags up the stairs.

* * *

The flicker of the candle light illuminated her face in the repeatedly cracked mirror. The mirror she stood in front of every single day for the past ten years wishing she looked different. As an infant she was hideous, the devil's child. As a teen she was repulsive, a beast. Now as a full grown woman she was a demon, a myth, a phantom. She was a ghost to some, a murderer to others and a monster to many. Those who were unlucky enough to be in her presence dared not say what they were really thinking, opinions and rumors were never confronted; they were kept for gossip and idle chit chat over drinks and social gatherings. She was always deemed things that were untrue, she was never considered to be what she really was; a truly wealthy, intelligent, artistic woman.

She was secretly one of the richest people in Paris; she bought business, buildings and land using her very few trusted confidants. Men she had taken in when they had nothing left and nowhere to go. Men she had shown mercy to and given food, warmth and shelter. Men she had turned into well respected Aristocrats and men who owed their lives to her. Tonight was the night; the first time she would step out from hiding in the shadows of Paris, from the darkness of the night and present herself as the wealthy and respected person she deserved to be.

The woman looked away from her reflection; she couldn't bear to look at her hideous face anymore. Usually barely any candles were lit and the room was kept dark to avoid her ever catching a glance of her distorted face in the numerous mirrors that were all around the stone walled room. However tonight, she had to make a good first impression and to do so; she reluctantly needed light. She required being able to see what she was doing to ensure everything was perfect. The woman pulled her long thick black hair back into a low pony tail and tied it with a maroon ribbon; unable to remember a time, her hair was trimmed, she thanked it's one length, ensuring not a strand fell out of place.

Once her hair was neatly arranged, she picked up a small bottle of liquid and applied some to the distorted side of her face; she then picked up the neatly carved, white mask from the table and placed it on the left side of her disfigured face, hiding any evidence of the horror underneath. The older woman pulled the black velvet neckerchief from the top of the mirror and reveled in the velvet material against the perfectly matching lumps of scar tissue sticking out from the center of her palms. The woman continued to get herself ready for this evening; she smiled to herself at the irony of hosting a masquerade ball at her mansion. It ensured she blended in with her guests and allowed her to feel normal, like someone else, like a hidden person, like a _Masquerade_.

* * *

Maura Isles stood in front of a mirror in a white corset and her under garments; she had all the dresses she'd brought laid out on the small bed. She had spent the past hour with Mrs. Cote; the seamstress from downstairs trying on all the different gowns, hoping to find the perfect, most suitable one for her first ever ball as the soon to be Mrs. Fairfield. Mrs. Cote, the owner of the dress shop below was is in her sixties and spent most of her time making all of her dresses by hand. She had insisted on helping Maura get ready for the ball, despite the young girl's many attempts to decline her offer. Mrs. Cote was a widow; her husband had died not long after their daughter was born many years ago. He was stabbed on his way home, when he refused to pay off the bill he had racked up in the local cathouse.

The authorities never caught the murderer, nor did they have any idea who did it, it was a cold case which was long forgotten by many. She had lost her daughter four years prior to tuberculosis and was now living on her own, her life passed by as she sat in the same chair taking measurements and making dresses to fit all the large, plump, curvy and thin girls of Paris. When she set eyes on Maura, she couldn't help but see her daughter in the younger girl and demanded on helping her get changed, insisting it wasn't proper for Garrett to be in the same room as a lady being dressed. The slightly older man had taken his best tuxedo and headed for the small bathroom to change, no more than ten minutes later, after a clean shave and a comb of his hair, he headed downstairs to lock the shop up for the older woman, being the gentlemen that he was.

"Nothing looks elegant enough for a ball!" Maura whined like an impatient child as she tossed yet another useless garment on the bed.

"You look precious in all you've tried on my child." The older woman cooed.

"I don't want to look precious; I want to look graceful and sophisticated." Maura huffed as she blew the stray hairs out of her face.

Mrs. Cote rolled her eyes and headed out of the room, her daughter was like Maura; hated not having something her own way. The blonde watched from the mirror as the older woman left the room, quietly shutting the door. Maura scoffed as she looked at all the different colored dresses, laying on the bed and floor, creased and useless for tonight.

Maura turned her attention back to the mirror, she looked at herself, her hair a mess from the constant changing of dresses and her face flushed from her aggravation of being unable to find the perfect gown. The girl sighed; she just wanted to make a good first impression on possible friends and potential business partners. Maura was never one to socialize with other people, they found her beautiful but abnormal; with her interest in Science and Art and her constant rambling of facts and figures. Many people in France and America disliked a smart woman, it was unheard of; women should be occupying themselves with pleasing their husbands and having children. In Paris, intelligence was dangerous, especially amongst women.

Even as a child, Maura never understood why women got so worked up and involved in gossip, especially other people's gossip. For as long as she could remember, when her mother had her afternoon tea with the ladies from the surrounding estates, she would quickly find a quiet corner and read her many books, often hearing laughter and hushed whispers of women who weren't at the tables to defend their apparent actions. As she grew into a young woman, she continued to avoid social events unless she absolutely had to attend to represent her family but even then she hated gossip, she'd sit back and simply listen, share a smile and join in on the laughter but silently she was counting the minutes until she could leave without appearing rude.

However, Garrett never seemed to mind Maura's unusual ways, despite the many things she'd heard whispered about her amongst his family. The truth was, Garrett didn't fully understand Maura, and he simply fell for her beauty and was delighted to find she was of the same social class. Months later, he'd asked Mr. Isles' permission to marry his daughter and sprung the engagement on the blonde; remembering as she looked down at the boyish looking man and the diamond ring, she knew she couldn't refuse. Over the months, she'd grown more accustomed to the polite gentleman and finally found herself at ease around him, just like anyone should be around their fiancé but still to this day, she hated how it came about, she had no choice or opinion in the matter; she was simply forced into love.

Maura was pulled from scrutinizing every inch of her life when Mrs. Cote returned carrying something wrapped up in brown paper.

"I forgot I had this!" The older woman smirked as she threw down the large item on the blonde's bed; Maura said nothing about the dust that covered her dresses.

"I made this for my daughter, years ago! She never got around to wearing it." Mrs. Cote cleared her throat of the lump that had formed at the mention of her dead child.

"I think it would fit you well. It may be slightly tight about the bust area but otherwise it should be sufficient." The dress maker tore open the wrapping and smiled when its contents were revealed. Maura looked down to her chest and smiled; back home, many maids that helped to dress the blonde often commented on her well-endowed chest at such a young age.

"Oh, I couldn't. I wouldn't feel right wearing something that didn't belong to me." Maura refused before she ever set eyes on the gown.

"Nonsense, it's just going to waste sitting in my attic, it deserves to be appreciated on such a beautiful girl as you." Mrs. Cote pulled the last bit of string loose and revealed the dress.

Maura gasped as she saw the dress, it was truly a masterpiece. She had never seen a dress so beautiful in all her life; she dreaded to think how long it must have taken the French woman to perfect. The dress was of a typical ball gown, elegant, long, and certainly hid a woman's ankles from view. It was designed to hang loosely off the shoulders and attached to a corset in the middle, ensuring a slim waist before the bottom half bustled out, not too over the top but enough to sway as you walked. It was all one classy color of pale pink, silk, and the neckline was covered by a wonderfully embroidered white net that added richness and texture to the otherwise plain dress. Small sequins and gems were sewn on to add a decorative twinkle in the white, the second any form of light touched upon it.

"It's beautiful." Maura whispered as her hand reached out and traced the silk material.

_She'd fallen in love._

* * *

Once the _'monster'_ was fully dressed, she headed out of her chambers, located at the very bottom of her mansion; it was a hidden cave when she first stumbled across the deserted, worn down, old building until she bought the cheap building with its land and turned it into the magnificent property it now was; it had taken years and years but she didn't regret a thing. Throughout her time in Paris, the men she had been kind enough to allow to live on her property for a small price of looking after the land and doing the odd job she asked, despite how she'd turn them into gentlemen; she still felt as though she didn't deserve to be around them, so she turned the cave into her place, her sanctuary and her room. It was hidden away, unable to find unless you knew the building like the back of your hand, ensuring she was left alone. The phantom headed up the many flights of stairs until she reached the supposed first floor of the mansion; working her way in and around the servants quarters, unseen, despite the many women and men preparing for tonight; she finally reached the ball room.

She stood at the top of the marble stair case, admiring her servant's handy work. The room was exactly how she described it to her right hand man and she had to admit it looked magnificent. The room had been scrubbed of the dust that had gathered over the past ten years, candles had been lit all around, brightening up the usually dark mansion and despite how much she detested the crystal chandelier, she had to admit, it looked spectacular hanging directly over the ballroom. All that was left was for the orchestra to set up and the bottles and bottles of champagne to be uncorked and the hundreds of clean glasses to be filled with the bubbly liquid.

"Looks good don't it?" A deep voice said.

"It looks spectacular." A smile played on her lips.

"Sure you wanna do this Signor Rizzoli?" A tall muscular black man asked, remaining a few steps down; out of respect.

"I'm certain. I'm sick and tired of hiding away. I think it's time these people see who their town '_monster'_ really is." Rizzoli replied in a foul tone.

"I deserve respect do I not?" Rizzoli turned to look into dark eyes.

"Yeah, you do." The American nodded.

"You should get ready, Frost. The guests will be arriving soon." Rizzoli said as she noticed the young man was still in his work clothes.

Barry Frost was Rizzoli's right hand man, although no older than twenty five; he had been with her for nearly seven years and had been nothing but hard working and loyal. The young man did everything for Rizzoli, it had started with a handful of business dealings but over the years, Signor Rizzoli trusted the boy to handle her more '_secretive'_ jobs that she wanted done without another soul knowing. Many refused to trade or bargain with a black man over the years but the second he mentioned he was working on behalf of Rizzoli; it didn't take long for everyone to give in out of fear. The man had never mentioned a word about why she wore the mask or addressed herself as Signor but he didn't care, he knew what it was like to be different, to be an outcast, all his life he had been a slave until one late night, he looked into the masked face of his savior from death, _Rizzoli_.

"I won't be attendin' Signor. It wouldn't be proppa' a black man amongst ladies and gentlemen." Frost nodded, Rizzoli had taught him everything he knew from how to spell to how to address people. However, they were still working on his pronunciation.

"Frost, you are a gentlemen and I expect them to show and treat you with the same equal respect they give their peers." Rizzoli fiddled with the glove covering her hand.

"Thank you Signor but if you don't mind, I'ma give it a miss." Frost knew he never needed to ask permission in respect to his own activities but he still liked to from time to time.

"As you wish." Rizzoli smiled.

"Do you have any other plans for this evening?" Rizzoli suddenly asked.

"I was just gonna scout the town, keep a watchful eye out for thieves and no gooders." Frost looked at his master.

"Take a sword." Rizzoli gave the younger boy a stern look.

"I don't want you getting hurt." Rizzoli cleared her throat, she didn't like to be perceived as weak but she had taken to Frost like a brother and wanted to protect him from harm.

"Take a horse if you wish and perhaps a few of the men that aren't attending tonight." Rizzoli suggested, a few of the men she had living in her mansion, preferred to stay away from social events and informed Signor Rizzoli they would keep to their quarters with her permission.

"Course, Signor." Frost darted down the stairs, despite being in his mid-twenties, at the glimpse of an adventure he hurried off like a young boy.

* * *

When the young couple arrived at the large gates, it didn't take long for two large men dressed in bright red uniforms, plain black masks, matching hats and swords attached to their hips; to hold open the door and hold a hand out for the blonde. Maura couldn't hold back a grin, they looked spectacular; they were clearly guards.

"Merci." Maura smiled.

"Thank the good lord there wasn't a set outfit." Garrett whispered into his fiancées ear; however both men heard the comment. Maura rolled her eyes and slapped her loves arm.

"Behave." The blonde laughed as she slapped the man's arm.

The two walked arm in arm towards the entrance of the building. Maura's mouth was hanging open, despite how unladylike it was, she couldn't force it closed; the building and the land around were stunning. The large white mansion was surrounded by luscious fields and a large barn not too far in the distance, considering how dark it was out; Maura could only wonder what else was hidden away in this mysterious land. The front yard was large and had a fountain in the middle that separated the land, allowing the carriages somewhere to park while waiting for their guests. As the two got closer. Maura was certain she could hear violins playing. At the age of twenty three, Maura was certain she'd never seen anything so wonderful in all her life. Looking around, there were crowds and crowds of people, all walking towards the entrance. Maura smiled at all the women linking arms with their beloveds, all dressed in spectacular gowns and extravagant masks. The gentlemen were all dressed in black tuxedoes with their hair slicked back, they looked so charming, but none looked as handsome as the man on her arm.

Maura couldn't hide the excitement bubbling up within her as they came to be the next in line to enter the building.

"Nom." A tall man dressed in a black tux said, his eyes never leaving the parchment.

"Name." Maura whispered when Garrett looked to her for help.

"Oh, Fairfield." The young man smiled and handed over the invitation.

The old man looked down at the invitation and then up at Garrett before he scribbled something down on his paper and moved to the side, allowing them to enter.

"Thank you." Garret nodded.

The young couple were about to walk into the entrance, when the two guards on either side of the doors, drew their muskets across the other to block the entrance. Garrett stepped forward to protect his fiancée.

"No entrance without a mask." The same man smirked.

"I have my mask here." Garrett scoffed as he held up his gold mask.

"Signor Rizzoli requests everyone have their masks on at all times." The man looked around, noticing every other person, including his fiancée had on their masks.

"That is ridiculous." Garrett sniggered.

"If you're not going to comply with the way things are run here, step aside Monsieur, others are waiting." The dark haired guard said as he looked behind at the queue of people waiting with their masks on and invitations in their hands.

"Garrett darling, please just put on your mask." Maura begged; she so desperately wanted to attend this ball.

"Fine." Garrett said as he placed his gold mask on. The young man felt ridiculous.

"Have a good evening Mademoiselle." The man smiled as he stepped aside and allowed them both to enter.

"Damn Americans." Garrett heard one of the guards mumbling as they walked past.

* * *

Signor Rizzoli stood on the balcony on one side of the set of marble stairs, she watched as more and more couples entered the ballroom, each looking as spectacular as the next. She smirked into her glass; they were all wearing their masks. Rizzoli didn't miss the way people were staring at her when they finally noticed the lone figure, standing above them, examining them, she suddenly felt nervous as not one person smiled, and they simply stared and whispered into their beloveds ears, no doubt making a foul comment about the monster.

"Signor Rizzoli, I presume?" A round bellied, older, grey hair man asked as he made his way up the stairs, a red head on his arm.

"Oui." Rizzoli nodded, her French was on point. Although she'd lived here for no more than ten years, she self-taught the language and perfected it.

"I am Vince Korsak, the town's Chief Gendarmerie." The older man said as he held out his hand for the woman to take. Rizzoli looked down at his outstretched hand and smiled at his poor French accent.

"I am aware of who you are. I believe my men have done things your law enforcement couldn't." The woman smirked, it wasn't meant as an insult but her point was put across.

The older man shrugged off Rizzoli not taking his hand and smiled, he knew Rizzoli's men were behind all the random dealing with crooks turning up beaten to a pulp at the steps of the station. Although the named hinted Italian, the older man was surprised at just how strong her accent was.

"I believe so. I admire the effort your chaps put in to help this town, especially the young man, Frost is it? The black fellow?" Korsak questioned.

"Yes." Rizzoli smiled, the older man was clearly from England.

"Many don't agree with it but I have to say the boy is superb at catching thieves and crooks. If society agreed with blacks, I'd hire the boy in a split second." Korsak whispered, only loud enough for Rizzoli to hear.

"It's a shame you obey society." Rizzoli scoffed, Korsak looked at the girl and had to smile, she was extremely challenging and he liked it. It was nice to see a woman have her own opinion.

"Oh how rude of me. This is my wife, Dana Korsak." The older man said, bringing his wife forward.

"A pleasure I'm sure." Rizzoli said as she stepped back and bowed to the woman, who curtsied in return. Korsak's wife was small, plump with red hair and large breasts; she had a pretty face but nothing stood out.

"Tell me Signor, why so far from England?" Rizzoli took a fresh glass from the passing waiter.

"Ah. Well, this woman right here." Madame Korsak blushed.

"She was visiting family in London when I first set eyes on her. I couldn't resist her beauty so I followed her back on a boat to France." Korsak smiled and kissed his wife's hand.

"I've always been a fool for a beautiful face." The older man smiled happily.

"Understandable." Rizzoli cleared her throat at the look she received from Madam Korsak.

"It was a pleasure Signor but I'd better get back." Korsak nodded to the group of men staring at him, eager for his return.

"Some of the chaps from the station, no matter where I go, I can't seem to escape my work." The man shared a knowing grin with Rizzoli and nodded as he left.

As the two walked back down the staircase, Rizzoli noticed people had been watching the conversation carefully and seemed to go about their business once the Chief walked back down the stairs to join the rest of the crowd.

Rizzoli smiled to herself as she watched Madam Korsak whisper in her husband's ear, not too quietly about how a woman shouldn't be dressed like a man and referred to as _'Signor';_ however it was the Chief's reply that made the hard faced Italian smile.

"She seems comfortable in what she wears and to be honest, it suits the girl more than it would most men." Korsak whispered loud enough for this wife to understand.

* * *

It didn't take long for the ballroom to be crammed with ladies and gentlemen from the town. Rizzoli had to laugh; she invited everyone; from the higher class, right down to the peasants of Paris. She wanted to make a point of mixing all the different types of people together and surprisingly, everyone seemed to be getting along. Although, you can tell the different classes apart just from a glimpse, Rizzoli smirked at the whores of Paris making small talk with ladies who gritted their teeth but held their tongues. More people than she expected had made their way up to her balcony to share polite greetings and thanks for their invitations before they made up some lie to excuse themselves. Not one single person made an effort to hold a conversation and not one of them looked her in the face; they found the space behind her head much more interesting.

Many of the elderly couples at the party seemed to avoid the Italian, forgetting their manners and not bothering to thank her for the invitation, although, they did continue to stare at her face. Rizzoli understood why, they had been around long enough to know the tales of her past and believe the false stories that spread like wild fire throughout Paris. She wondered which one each person believed to be true, was she a murderer or a monster? A thief or a rapist? A Phantom or simply just a woman in trousers. However, the younger couples were excited and wanted to know the truth behind the stories, although not one of them made an attempt to ask, each time a brave young man, made his way up the marble stair case to ask his question; most probably to impress a young maiden, he'd practically run back down with one stare from the Italian.

Rizzoli shook her head as the men continued to drink hefty amounts of champagne and found an excuse to slip past their wives and find a quiet corner to flirt with their regular whore from the cathouse. The Italian slowly took a sip from her glass of champagne when someone caught her eye.

Walking arm in arm with a young man was the most beautiful, stylish, graceful and refined young woman Rizzoli had ever seen in all her forty years of living. The young girl couldn't be much older than twenty with her ivory skin and her soft golden hair pinned back with just a few stands hanging around her magnificently sculpted face. Slightly darker, neatly shaped eyebrows fashioned to highlight her hazel green eyes. Her nose straight and elegant, her lips were full and luscious hiding her straight white teeth; it was as though the girl had been created for the sole purpose of perfection.

From the dress Rizzoli could tell this girl wasn't from Paris, it wasn't the typical over the top bustle French ball gown; it was smaller and shaped more to her figure. The dress was a pale pink and from the shoulders to the front was a white material that sparkled as she walked directly underneath the chandelier, Rizzoli couldn't help but admire the young girl's chest, for such a child, she had wonderfully developed assets. The blonde had white gloves on that came up to her elbows and in her hand was a white mask that had a pink flower attached to the top left to match the dress. Rizzoli grinned at how stunning the girl was, she could tell her excitement by her features, the child tried desperately to keep her mask at her face but with each smile and laugh, her hand subconsciously moved the mask. Rizzoli found herself wanting to find out who this girl was.

Although Rizzoli hardly left her mansion, she knew who the majority of the people were in the town and she had never seen nor heard of this girl before. Surely such a beauty would be the talk of the town? There had been whispers throughout the crowds in the city of a young American man that had moved to Paris, it had been said he was busy building a house of his own on the outskirts of the town and he was awaiting the arrival of his wife. It wasn't unusual for people to be married at such a young age; the majority of Paris was married. The men who were single didn't stay that way for long; they were either promised to a young girl or had become a widower. The women who were single, were either waiting for a man of money to become available or were scarlet women making their own way in the world.

However, Rizzoli was neither of them. She had never been married nor had she ever had a partner or a lover. She was not religious as she couldn't believe in a god that would curse her with such a burden from birth; so the ways of the church never fazed her. Besides, she was never interested in men; she saw them as pigs, obsessed with money and sex. Like the men, there were two types of women in Paris, the ones who wanted your pockets full or the type who so desperately wanted to believe in true love. The monster was so lost in thought she didn't realize someone was watching her intensely from a white mask until her own chocolate brown eyes met hazel green ones.

* * *

When Maura entered the room her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. The ballroom looked spectacular; it was so elegant and classy. She was positive she'd never seen anything so enthralling in her entire life. The walls were painted different shades of gold and white, the marble floor was white with flecks of black here and there and the ceiling had hand painted angels at each corner of the room. Hanging directly in the middle of the ceiling was a crystal chandelier, as the young girl looked up at it; her dress sparkled bright as the light reflected on her ball gown. As Maura continued to look all around, she felt her heart race when she spotted the violinists she was certain she'd heard earlier positioned in one corner of the room, where presumably some dancing would take place. Maura smiled at the topless waiters that had been painted gold with matching masks and hats, darting about the room with trays upon trays of what could only be champagne. The thing Maura found herself loving the most was the marble staircase that started on either side of the room and twisted up to the floor above with a small balcony, overlooking the floor. Maura had been so occupied with the beauty of the room; she failed to notice the loud crowd that greeted her as she stepped fully into the room.

"Darling, just try to relax and enjoy yourself." Garrett whispered in his fiancée's ear when he felt her tense.

"I'll do my best." Maura swallowed harshly, she never did well in such large crowds.

"Just try not to embarrass me with your useless facts." Garrett rubbed his love's hand as he nodded to a few people he had seen throughout the town.

Maura felt taken back by her fiancé's words. Her facts weren't useless, if someone, _anyone_ took the time to listen to them, they'd realize they could be rather useful. The honey blonde exhaled and straightened her posture. As the two began to mingle with the crowd, Maura couldn't help but notice the strange looks she was receiving from women and the way every man kept staring at her chest. The young girl had done her best not to make it so revealing but due to the lack of time, she didn't have a chance to alter it.

"Ah, Monsieur Fairfield." A small, middle aged man with red hair took Garrett's hand in a strong grip.

"Mr. Abel! How are you sir?" Garrett's face lit up.

"Fine, just fine. I'm glad you could make it." Mr. Abel smiled.

"I'm sick of you turning down drinks to work on that damn shack." The older man laughed. Maura didn't miss the way Garrett cringed and tensed; she began to wonder, just how far along with the house was he?

"Priorities sir, much like my work." Garrett charmed.

"Well Monsieur, you Americans may tend to charm people with your words but here in Paris, we talk business over a drink." The older man whacked Garrett on the back playfully.

"Ooh la, la. Who is this beautiful young lady?" Mr. Abel's eyes slowly tracked up Maura's body, his eyes planted firmly on her chest.

"This is my fiancée, Maura Isles. Maura this is Monsieur Abel, the man I've been trying to persuade to become my partner in my accountancy firm." Garrett puffed his chest out proudly.

"It's a pleasure." The red haired man said as he bowed down to the young woman.

"Bonjour." Maura smiled.

"If you weren't engaged, I'd have to snap you up myself." The man flirted, despite the ring on his finger.

"Mm, I might have to come and help you on that shack if it means I get to be around that, Garrett." He licked his lips, his eyes never leaving Maura's bosom.

"Ah you're a funny man." Garrett deflected, knowing his fiancée was uncomfortable.

"I don't suppose you happen to know anyone who still has living quarters up for rent?" Garrett asked Mr. Abel, hoping the change of subject would settle his fiancée.

"I'm not sure of anywhere; many places are fully booked with that storm a while back, many sailors have docked their ships for weeks repairing the severe damage. However, the Chief Gendarmerie is more familiar with the residents than I am. Perhaps ask him?" The middle aged man suggested.

"Thank you. I look forward to working with you." Garrett smiled as he led Maura towards the Chief Gendarmerie.

* * *

A much older man, who was slightly chubby and had grey hair was busy talking to two younger men who Maura assumed with their lack of clothing were waiters.

"Mr. Korsak?" Garrett questioned, he'd seen the man here and there but had never actually greeted him.

"Oui?" The older man turned around at the mention of his name.

"I'm Garrett Fairfield-"

"The American?" Korsak smiled as he took a puff of his cigar.

"Yes." Garrett smiled.

"This is my fiancée, Maura Isles." Garrett introduced the two.

"Bonjour." Maura nodded as her hand was taken.

"You speak French?" Korsak said, suddenly very interested in the young girl.

"Oui, ma grand-mère m'a appris quand j'étais enfant." (_Yes, my grandmother taught me when I was a child)_ Maura replied, her accent on point.

"C'est intéressant." Korsak replied with a big grin. Garrett rolled his eyes, he hated when Maura spoke French, inconsiderately knowing the man never saw the point in learning the language.

"Considering you're English, your French is very good sir." Maura laughed.

"Merci." The man winked, earning another laugh from the blonde.

"Sir, I was wondering if you know of anybody who has any rooms to rent?" Garrett asked, disrupting the conversation. Korsak tore his eyes away from the young girl and looked at the boy.

"Hmmm, many places are fully booked." Korsak said, bringing his glass-less hand up to his beard he scratched it.

"Then again…" Korsak trailed off.

"You know somebody?" Garrett hoped, although he didn't mind giving up his room for his future wife, with the storms passing recently, he didn't fancy sleeping in a roofless house.

"Yes chap; however, it's not exactly your typical Tavern or Inn." Korsak tilted his head.

"What do you mean?" Garrett asked.

Whilst the two gentlemen were occupied talking Maura had lost interest and was busy looking around the room. The honey blonde was smiling at the crowds of people all around; she was busy watching a couple dancing so happily in the center of the room when she felt a shiver run down her spine. Brushing it off, she looked back to her love to see he was still deep in conversation, flicking her hair out of her face, her eyes caught a lone figure standing, staring at her from the balcony she had so fondly admired. Maura felt her breath hitch; the gentleman was shockingly handsome.

He had long, thick, black hair that was pulled back from his face and into a low pony tail held by a ribbon. The gentleman had dark olive skin, most of his face was covered by a white mask but yet he had a feminine look about him, both cheek bones were high from what the girl could make out and he had neatly shaped, thick eyebrows, the left with a slight bend in it. The man's nose seemed slightly crooked but suited his face, his lips were plump and pink, another feature adding to his feminine looks. The honey blonde had to admit, it was hard reading facial expressions with masks on, especially a mask that covered the left side of his face and started at the top of his forehead and stopped just below his mouth.

The figure looked spectacular but surprisingly skinny in his outfit. He was rather tall, about three inches taller than Maura the blonde estimated. He was wearing a wonderfully designed black velvet suit that was different from many of the gentlemen at this ball as it had a neckerchief instead of a bow tie and a silk waist coat, her eyes continued down never ending black pants which hid his shoes. Maura always being observant from such a young age noticed something attached to the man's side. From what she could make out it looked like a silver handle to a sword. This figure standing on his own holding a glass of liquid was staring intensely at Maura, it wasn't until her hazel green eyes met these stunningly beautiful dark brown orbs did the gentleman straighten up and look away from the honey blonde. Maura's suspicions were confirmed as he walked away, it was a death head skull sword attached to his side. Maura was intrigued by him and his eyes, those eyes. How could anyone forget those eyes?

"Oh how wonderful." Maura's attention was snapped away from the man at the sound of her fiancés voice.

"Did you hear that darling? We could have possibly found you a place to stay." Garrett beamed.

"Oh? Where?" The young girl asked.

"Well potentially right here in this mansion my love." Garrett said kissing his fiancée's hand. Maura couldn't stop the excitement that coursed through her body at the possibility of staying in this building.

"That's fantastic." Maura smiled.

"You wouldn't mind staying here?" Korsak eyed the girl suspiciously; surely she'd heard some tale or story about Rizzoli.

"Of course not! Who would pass up an opportunity to stay in such a magnificent building?" Maura furrowed her brows.

"You haven't heard any rumors?" The older man asked.

"Rumors? What kind of rumors?" Garrett cut across, taking his fiancée's hand in his own.

"You needn't bother yourself with them. After all they are just tales." Korsak wasn't sure if that was the best thing to have said, although it settled the girl's curiosity, he himself didn't know whether they were true or false. Although he didn't dwell on the thought, he doubted Rizzoli would ever hurt an innocent young girl like Mademoiselle Isles.

"I have no interest in rumors anyhow. I prefer to have evidence or to hear from the source before I allow myself to believe them." Maura smiled at the older man.

"That's very decent of you miss. However, just a word of warning, many will gossip if you choose to bunk here." Korsak whispered.

"Well, that will be their prerogative." Maura grinned.

"Well then, this might be just the place for you." Korsak laughed.

"Who is it that I am to speak to?" Garrett asked as he took a fresh glass of champagne and took a long sip. Maura watched from the corner of her eye and counted that as his third glass already.

"Signor Rizzoli." Korsak nodded to the staircase where she had once stood. Garrett thought for a moment as he racked his brain, he'd heard that name before but couldn't for the life of him place it.

"Our host for the evening." The Chief Grandiemere smiled.

"The one in the half faced mask." Korsak whispered leaning into Maura, the blonde wondered could it be the man she'd seen lurking on the balcony? Korsak grinned as he watched the excitement play out on Maura's face; although deep in conversation with Mr. Fairfield at the time, he hadn't missed the way the '_monster'_ and the beautiful girl inspected every inch of the other from different ends of the room.

"Maura darling, let's go find this Signor Rizzoli before time passes us." Garrett nodded a thank you and led his fiancée up the staircase.

* * *

As the young couple made it up the stairs, Garrett stopped as he saw this Rizzoli gentleman speaking with one of the waiters, he was about to speak out when someone interrupted his thoughts.

"Monsieur Fairfield." A tall, skinny dark haired man called.

"Mr. Andre." Garrett replied, turning his attention towards one of his first acquaintances here in Paris.

"I'm glad you came." Garrett smirked.

"Well people tend to come to events where there's free alcohol, rather than paying for mine." Mr. Andre bellowed.

"Darling, this is the tavern owner Mr Andre. Andre, I'd like you to meet my future wife, Miss Isles." Garrett presented his future wife to the other man.

"It's a pleasure Mademoiselle." Andre licked his lips at the virgin beauty.

"Like wise." Maura nodded.

"I can see why, Mr. Fairfield has talked nonstop about you." Mr. Abel smiled.

"Talked nonstop about me has he?" Maura questioned, she looked towards Garrett but saw his attention was elsewhere.

"Oui. The man even turned down one of the lovely ladies and said he was promised to a beauty, and a beauty you are indeed." Mr. Andre replied as he glanced down at Maura's bosom.

"I'm glad my fiancée has more...will power." Maura looked horrified at the thought of a scarlet woman approaching her future husband.

"Is it common for…_'ladies of the night'_ to approach married men?" Maura asked the older man, who burst into laughter.

" Telle une jeune fleur." (Such a young flower) Mr. Andre patted Maura's arm.

"The pockets of married men are what keep that brothel running." Maura's mouth hung open at the realization. She still had so much to learn about the world around her.

* * *

Rizzoli was busy informing one of her servants that more champagne was needed from the kitchen; she was surprised at how quickly the town's people were drinking her liquor; then again she expected nothing less of greedy, money obsessed people.

"Signor Rizz-" A young dark haired man with a foreign accent started until he cut himself off.

"Oh, my apologies. I thought you were someone else." The man's eyebrows were in his hairline when he realized he was looking at a woman posing as a man.

"You're looking for Signor Rizzoli?" Rizzoli cleared her throat.

"Oui." Garrett nodded, testing his French on the woman.

"Please, use your native tongue; although fluent in French, it is not my first language Signor." Rizzoli eyed the man.

"Of course, how foolish of me." Garrett couldn't take his eyes off the mask, an effect which struck many.

"I am Signor Rizzoli, what can I help you with?" Rizzoli stood tall.

Garrett was speechless for a few minutes; he was trying to process why this woman was posing like a man and why everyone referred to her as '_signor'_. From a distance she could pass as being a gentleman but up close, despite her unusually deep voice, looking at her soft complexion and long eye lashes, there was no denying she was a woman.

"I-uh- I am Garrett Fairfield." Garrett stretched out his hand, unsure whether he should bow or shake her hand; he settled for the latter.

"I'm looking for a room to rent for quite some time. Many of the town's taverns are fully booked and I was told to speak to you in the hope you could help me." Garrett dropped his arm back to his side when his handshake was so bluntly rejected.

"You have come to the right place. However, I do not take rent from occupants; I will find you something to do to help out around my land, whether it's scrubbing the floors or tending to the horses. Despite your height, or lack of; you appear to be of strong build to mayb-" Rizzoli was cut off, she hated being cut off.

"Oh no, let me be more clear, it's not for me it's for my- wait. Just a moment." The young man said holding up his hand as he only just realized his fiancée wasn't behind him.

The young boy headed off into a small crowd, Rizzoli huffed, for one, she hated to be interrupted when speaking and two she hated waiting. Looking around the room, she watched as the waiters brought up more bottles, placing them down on the large tables and popping the corks before they went around filling up glass upon glass, she smirked.

"Signor Rizzoli. I'd like you to meet someone." Fairfield returned and grabbed the attention of the beast; she rolled her eyes and turned to face the boy, however, she felt her knees go weak when she saw her.

Maura looked towards this Rizzoli for the second time this evening and felt her breath hitch; it was the gentleman she found looking at her from earlier on in the night. Maura was shocked when she realized that the figure she found so alluring and intriguing, that face she found so handsome and those eyes she found so intense belonged to not a man, but a woman and a rather beautiful woman at that.

"This is-"

"Maura Isles." The honey blonde beauty cut off her fiancé as her eyes met the monsters. Maura held out her gloved hand and looked into those eyes that she was certain could see into her soul.

Signor Rizzoli never knew true beauty until she found herself within arm's length of what she was certain was an angel sent from above to torture her very soul.

* * *

**A/N:** I apologize for the long first chapter but I wanted to set the scene for the rest of the fic!

Also, I do not speak fluent French or Italian so I have used google translator for the story!

I have also done some extensive research for the fic but if anything is historically incorrect feel free to let me know as sometimes I do miss things!


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Rizzoli &amp; Isles, most of the characters in this story belong to Tess Gerritsen and TNT.

I would like to thank **Ava** for beta reading this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter two**

The two stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime, neither woman was willing to pull away their gaze from the other. It was like there wasn't another soul around them, just the two of them, content in looking into each other's eyes. Garrett stood by, awkwardly waiting for one of them to break their gaze apart and say something but it didn't come for a long time. Rizzoli looked at every single inch of the girl's face and she was sure this was a dream. From a distance, the girl was pretty but up close you could see the hand full of freckles that were dusted along her clear, make up free face. Not a wrinkle in sight, nor a birth mark to speak of, not even a spot or a blemish graced the girl's face; Rizzoli was certain she'd never seen such a natural beauty. The Italian didn't know whether she envied or loathed her for her beautiful looks, something she was certain was nothing to the child but was everything to the older woman.

Maura stared back with equal curiosity, the woman was certainly beautiful but in her own way. From what Maura could see of her face, it had been exposed to years of sun, adding darkness to her complexion that would surely burn the pale skin of her own body. Maura thought she looked like a rouge, a temptress with her mysterious aura and that mask. The blonde knew by the way she held herself, that there was a reason for the mask, masquerade ball or not, it wasn't until she saw the redness on her left eye lid when she blinked did she realised, it must have been hiding a skin disorder of some sort.

"Maura." Rizzoli tested it out, her husky voice sent a shiver to the very soul of the blonde.

"A beautiful name to match such a beautiful face." The Italian whispered, only then noticing the hand still held out. Taking a step back, Signor Rizzoli touched her fingers with the tip of her own, bowed and placed a small kiss to the gloved hand.

"It means dark in Latin. Although I find that hard to believe." Rizzoli smiled as she straightened her posture, not missing the blush that had worked its way onto those freckled cheeks.

"I've never cared for the meaning of my name. Many religions believe the meaning of your given name should reflect the person you are to become but so many things influence our decisions and actions. To me, it's simply a definition." Maura looked up to find the other woman smiling and she already regretted the first thing that came out of her mouth.

"I agree. People judge from what they see or hear, you have to know the person to be able to define who they are." Rizzoli didn't miss the way the child beamed up at her when she realised she shared her opinion.

"Tell me Lady Isles-"

"Maura."

"_Maura_, you're from America?" Rizzoli smiled, she didn't mind being interrupted this time around.

"Is that a statement or a question?" Maura bit her lip to hold back a playful smirk.

"Perceive it as you may." The monster smirked, she loved a fierce attitude.

"Yes, I'm from Boston actually." Maura's smile never dampened.

"You're from Italy?" Maura inquired.

"Is that a-" Rizzoli tried to mock but was cut off.

"Question." Maura saw her grin reflected in the darker face.

Meanwhile, Garrett stood by listening to the two women talk, his head going side to side with each answer. He was surprised at Maura's sudden boldness towards the older woman, for someone who was born and raised properly and respectably, Maura knew to treat your elders with the utmost respect.

"Maura…show some respect please." Garrett warned.

"No. Leave her be. She hasn't shown any disrespect, she's merely matched my propulsive attitude." Rizzoli shut the boy down, her eyes not even bothering to move from the beauty in front of her.

Rizzoli didn't miss the hidden smirk that appeared on the younger girl's face when her fiancé was undermined by someone older than him. Rizzoli and Maura both knew he wouldn't say anything as it would just contradict what he just warned his future wife about.

"Yes, I was born in Rome. Although I'm sure you already knew I was Italian." Rizzoli teased the child, knowing she'd take the bait.

"Well your name is obviously Italian. Your dark hair and tanned complexion would hint at either Italian or Spanish but when I heard your accent, I was certain Italian." Maura smiled.

"Piuttosto Ii Piccolo Genio." (Quite the little genius ) Rizzoli mumbled to herself, taken back by how smart this girl seemed to be. Rizzoli often thought out loud to herself quite a lot, that's what years of living and spending most of your time alone did to you.

"Oh I wouldn't go as far as to say a genius Signor." The honey blonde laughed as the older woman's eyes went wide.

"You speak Italian?" Rizzoli's mouth hung open, this girl was not only beautiful and intelligent but she also spoke a number of languages.

"Not exactly. I understand it more than speak it." Maura replied remembering how as a child she used to travel with her grandmother and hear all the foreign tongued people.

"You're just full of surprises." Rizzoli laughed.

"So now that you ladies are done gossiping..." Garrett attempted a joke.

"It's my-"

"Wife?" Rizzoli turned her attention back to the blonde.

"Fiancée." Garrett corrected, he didn't miss the small exchange between the two women at that.

"And I was hoping she would be able to stay here." Garrett huffed when he finally managed to grab the attention of Signor Rizzoli.

Rizzoli was stunned, she never thought a woman as classy as Lady Isles would ever consider having a conversation with the likes of her let alone be willing to live in the same building. The Italian laughed, being new in Paris, she obviously had no clue of her unwarranted reputation or her true disfigurement. She wondered how long it would take a generous person to fill her in before she was packing her bags and leaving this place.

"It's perfectly fine if you don't want me staying here Signor Rizzoli. I'm sure we'll sort something out. Thank you for considering it though." Maura could sense the other woman's hesitance and decided to help her along.

"What? Oh no, you are welcome here at any time Lady Isles." Rizzoli smiled.

"Are you positive you want to stay in such a place?" Rizzoli furrowed her brows.

"Who wouldn't? I envy you living in such an establishment." The young girl laughed.

"If you're willing then, I welcome you with an open door." Rizzoli glanced to the man and smiled.

"It's settled then." Garrett wrapped a protective arm around his fiancée and pulled her close.

"How will I repay this deed if you do not take my money Signor?" Garrett asked, he was relieved of sorts, they really didn't have much money scraped together, he'd been so busy working on the house; he hadn't a chance to sort out setting up his business.

"Please, consider it a gift if you will, a welcome to Paris gift." Rizzoli smiled at the young couple.

"Thank you Signor Rizzoli." Garrett nodded with gratitude.

"Thank you ever so much." Maura clasped her hands together.

"I'll send someone to help you collect your belongings tomorrow Lady Isles." Rizzoli grabbed the attention of a passing waiter and whispered in his ear to inform Frost of their new arrival once he returned.

"Darling, that's your fourth glass, don't you want to maybe, take it easy?" Maura mumbled as Garrett reached for another glass. She hated Garrett when he was drunk, slightly tipsy he was fun and twice as charming but drunk, he was an arrogant, obsessive, aroused pig.

"I've been working for weeks on end, building the house just the way you want it. Do I not at least deserve some enjoyment?" Garrett muttered through his teeth. Maura didn't miss the sly comment he made referring to her refusal to have any form of sexual contact until they were married, after all she was a proper lady.

Maura glanced up to find Signor Rizzoli looking at the two, suddenly embarrassed at what the woman had obviously heard, Maura kept her eyes trained on the floor.

"I guess we should mix in and greet some of the town's people, since it is your first night here after all." Garrett's eyes never left Rizzoli's despite the fact he was talking to his fiancée. The Italian had clearly heard what had gone on between the man and his soon to be wife.

"It was wonderful meeting your Signor." Garrett nodded before downing half of his glass.

"It was a pleasure Signor Rizzoli and thank you again for your kindness, it means so much." Maura chanced a glance up at the woman.

"There's no need to thank me child." Rizzoli smiled.

"And believe me, the pleasure was all mine." The Italian whispered as she bowed again before the young man practically dragged his future wife away from the beast.

"Jackson." Rizzoli grunted.

"Yes Signor?" The man appeared.

"Ensure that man doesn't have another drop of alcohol tonight." Rizzoli nodded in the direction of Garrett.

"As you wish, I shall tell the men." With that, the tall waiter made his way to every other waiter and Rizzoli smirked as her gold painted men scattered across the room, away from Fairfield.

Rizzoli never took her eyes off the beauty as the two made their way around the room, greeting almost everyone they passed. The honey blonde never spoke much; she never did anything really, simply stood back and pretended to listen to the boring conversations of her fiancé. The dark haired woman leaned on the balcony and continued to watch her, unable to pull her eyes away. She smirked as she watched hazel eyes dart around the room before they landed back on dark ones. Signor Rizzoli winked and the blonde blushed when she realised she'd been caught staring. She turned back towards her fiancé; Rizzoli never missed the smile gracing her lips.

* * *

The hours had passed quicker than either woman expected. The young blonde had spent the past few hours walking around the sizeable ballroom, arm in arm with her future husband greeting endless amounts of people. She could barely remember the name of one person before she saw a new face smiling at her. Garrett was doing his best to introduce her to everyone, particularly the higher class women, not once had he stopped to greet the obvious lower class. The young girl's feet were killing her and her face was hurting from the non-stop smiling, she felt overwhelmed and just wanted to find a quiet place to have five minutes to herself without being pulled to meet another couple. Maura made her escape as her fiancé chased down a waiter that had ignored him when he shouted him over, the man hadn't touched another glass of champagne for a few hours and the blonde was thankful.

Rizzoli was leaning on the balcony looking down at the crowds of people still here, some had bid farewell and left as it was past midnight, but many people where still here dancing to the music, drinking and chatting. The Italian was glad tonight had been sort of a success, she'd introduced herself to many of the towns people, despite the few words shared, they knew exactly who she was and she left them wondering what exactly was she?

"Shouldn't you be entertaining your guests?" A soft voice rang out.

"You are my guest, are you not?" Rizzoli looked down at the girl as she finally came to lean against the balcony beside her.

"Yes." Maura laughed.

"Am I not entertaining you?" The Italian teased. The honey blonde shook her head before releasing a throaty laugh.

"Where is your husband?" Rizzoli looked around noticing the man wasn't there.

"My _fiancé_ is talking business with some men." Maura shrugged as she tightened her gloves.

"Ah, a typical man. What is his occupation?" Rizzoli spotted the young man standing talking with a group of gentlemen; she smiled when she noticed his drink free hands.

"An accountant, well an aspiring accountant." Maura laughed.

"Aspiring?" Rizzoli wondered.

"Well, back home, in Boston, he was an assistant in his father's accountancy firm. Now we are here in Paris, he is determined to set up his own business. He always wanted to be his own boss." Maura smiled.

"Does that not interest you?" Rizzoli looked down, her eyes glued to the black suits covering her ballroom.

"What does it matter? My opinion doesn't count; I'm simply there for show, arm candy if you will." Maura sighed, this evening was supposed to be fun, getting to know people and making friends. However it had been filled with conversations she had no interest in, being introduced to men who stared at her chest for far too long and women who rolled their eyes at her attire. Maura was yet to make at least one friend. Yet here she was standing with Rizzoli and strangely felt more sane than she had the whole night.

"Your opinion is as important as the next persons." Rizzoli looked over to the girl and furrowed her brow at the way her head was held down.

"Honestly, accounting, money, banks. I have absolutely no interest in." Maura blushed; a woman should always be interested in her husband's job.

"Tell me then…" Rizzoli turned around, her back leaning against the balcony as she grabbed the attention of the child.

"What interests you Lady Isles?" Rizzoli looked into those sheepish hazel green eyes.

"You'd think me odd." Maura hesitated.

"I'd think you human." Rizzoli countered.

"M-medicine." Maura mumbled.

"As in a Doctor?" Rizzoli said tilting her head, she was surprised.

"Assistant." Maura corrected.

"Why not a Doctor?" Rizzoli wondered why this child was lowering her own expectations.

"I'm a Lady. I could never be a Doctor, it wouldn't be right." Maura laughed at the thought.

"And why can't a Lady be a Doctor?" Rizzoli tilted her head.

"I-it's preposterous, it's a gentlemen's job, it-it wouldn't be proper for a woman in a male dominated field." Maura shook her head; she could practically see her dream being torn apart.

"It's possible." Rizzoli shrugged.

"It's _impossible_, believe me." Maura sighed.

"Nothing is impossible, look at me?" Rizzoli smirked as she took a step forward and opened her arms, showing off her attire. Maura laughed as the Italian did a little twirl.

"I'm a woman and yet I'm richer and smarter, all by my own doing." Rizzoli laughed.

"That's how I own most of Paris." Rizzoli whispered.

"Yo-you do?" Maura was gob smacked, how could a woman own so many properties? Let alone a city. She assumed Signor Rizzoli was wealthy by the ball but she never would have thought that wealthy.

"Of course I do but I had to work at it. Many wouldn't do business with me for many years." Rizzoli smirked.

"Because you're a woman?" Maura asked.

"Because they were so terrified of me." Rizzoli corrected.

"Terrified?" Maura asked.

"People are scared of what they do not understand Lady Isles." The Italian grinned.

"It wasn't until they realised they weren't going to be face to face with me. I have a boy to handle my business meetings." Rizzoli smiled at the thought of Frost, he'd come so far.

"However, as many have had to learn the hard way, you double cross me and they will know what it means to fear." Rizzoli husked, making the blonde swallow harshly.

"Signor Rizzoli, you are deceivingly complex." Maura teased, despite how frightened she was for a moment.

"And yet, you're still interested no?" Rizzoli's eyes pierced the honey blonde causing her to blush.

"It looks as though your husband has noticed your absence." Rizzoli nodded into the crowd where Garrett was looking all around.

"Why do you continue to refer to him as my husband when you know he is my fiancé?" Maura asked, slightly annoyed.

"He will be your husband one day Lady Isles. Maybe you need to ask yourself, why it bothers you so much?" Rizzoli whispered down her ear as she passed behind her.

Maura was speechless, she didn't know why it bothered her so much and she found herself unable to come up with an answer. Rather than be pulled into that, she looked down to see her husband looking for her.

"I don't know if my face can force another smile." Maura moaned as she took a step back as her fiancé glanced in her direction.

Looking down at the younger boy who was making his way through the crowd towards them, Rizzoli hesitated should she test her luck? Would the girl follow? Before she could make her mind up, her lips made the decision.

"Come with me." Rizzoli whispered as she surprisingly held out her hand.

Maura furrowed her brows as she looked down at the black leather gloved hand, held out for her, she glanced back in the direction of Garrett and chewed her lip, without a second thought she took the offered hand. Rizzoli held her breath, for the first time in nearly twenty years someone touched her hand. The Italian waited for a few seconds, waited for the girl to snatch her hand back or ask about the covered hands but it never came, throwing a look towards the grinning blonde, she led her out of the ballroom.

"Where are we going?" Maura whispered as she found herself being led out of the busy room, through barely lit hallways until she was ascending flight upon flight of stairs.

"You shall see soon enough Lady Isles." Rizzoli smiled and squeezed her hand tighter, loving the embrace.

* * *

After climbing god only knows how many sets of spiral stairs, the blonde finally found herself on flat solid ground, still holding Signor Rizzoli's hand she shivered at the sudden cool air that hit her barely covered shoulders as she was led onto a roof.

"What are we doing up here?" The honey blonde asked as she looked at the few gargoyles sitting on the roof, her hand still holding the other woman's. Rather than answer, Rizzoli brought up her free hand and lifted up the younger girl's chin until she gasped.

"Oh my." Maura's mouth hung open as she found herself staring at a black sky, filled with golden stars flickering away and a large full moon shining brightly.

"It's beautiful." Maura gasped.

"Yes, it is." Rizzoli whispered, her eyes never left the young girl's face. The shimmer of the moonlight cast down on the blonde's face, illuminating her hazel green eyes; she never believed such beauty could exist.

Maura smiled, she'd never seen anything like it in her life. Clouds and smoke usually filled Boston's sky hiding away the beauty above. She glanced towards the other woman giving her a smile before she turned again and noticed Rizzoli staring at her, a smile playing on her lips. The older woman blushed and looked away when Maura looked back at her.

"Can we sit?" Maura asked as she nodded towards the small wall surrounding the roof.

"Of course." Rizzoli found herself being pulled.

"Here. I wouldn't want you to mess up your gown." Signor Rizzoli said as she finally released the girl's hand and pulled off her jacket to lay it on the stone wall.

"What about your suit jacket?" Maura chewed her lip; it was such a kind thing to do.

"Nothing that can't be replaced." The Italian smiled before she took a seat next to the blonde.

"Is that-"

"The Eiffel tower?" Maura gasped when she noticed the tower in the distance.

"Yes." Rizzoli smirked when she saw the excitement in the child's face.

"My god, it's stunning." Maura whispered as she eyed the iron tower.

"It wasn't so stunning while being constructed, believe me." Rizzoli laughed.

"This view is so magnificent." Maura smiled as she looked down at the small town, most houses in darkness but a few with a glimpse of candle light.

"I find myself up here often." Rizzoli sighed.

"I look forward to living here." The honey blonde turned to face the other woman.

"I look forward to having you here." Rizzoli hid her blush when Lady Isles took her hands between her own and held them.

"What made you leave Rome?" Maura asked as she looked at the stars in the sky.

"I didn't have a choice." Rizzoli whispered and looked down at their joined hands.

"Women never have a choice." The blonde sighed.

"Don't you believe that for a second." The Italian tugged on the girl's hand, forcing her to look up.

"I've never had a choice." The blonde said shyly.

"That's not true." Rizzoli shook her head.

"It was your choice to take my hand and come up here with me." The Italian grinned knowing her answer was true.

"Are you always this stubborn?" Maura raised an eyebrow.

"Do you always ask this many questions?" Rizzoli smirked.

Both women burst out laughing at the way neither one would let the other have the last word. Rizzoli couldn't remember the last time she laughed and the blonde couldn't remember the last time she saw a smile so beautiful.

"What is your name?" Maura suddenly asked as she looked into warm brown eyes.

"Sorry?" Rizzoli smiled at the girl.

"I only know you as Signor Rizzoli. I want to know your given name." Maura picked at the flower on the mask, hoping she wasn't prying too much.

"Ah, you shall have to wait." Rizzoli smirked.

"Why?" Maura huffed.

"Because the time isn't right." Rizzoli winked

"But whe-" Maura tried.

"So many questions." Rizzoli laughed, she adored teasing this child.

"Come, your _fiancé_ will be missing you." Rizzoli said once all the laughter died down and held out her hand for the younger girl to take.

* * *

The two women made their way back down the stairs and headed back to the ball room, still hand in hand. As the two came to the hall before entering the ball room, Rizzoli stopped when she heard the music begin to play. Smirking, she turned to face the honey blonde.

"May I have this dance?" Rizzoli grinned.

"Oh, I don't know how." Maura blushed, she'd always wanted to dance a waltz but Garrett never learned.

"It's easy, I'll show you." Rizzoli got into place when the blonde stepped forward.

"May I?" Rizzoli whispered as her right hand hovered over Maura's waist. Maura smiled and placed her mask down on a small table.

"Of course." Maura blushed when the older woman pulled her body flush against the taller one.

"Place your left hand on my shoulder." Rizzoli whispered as she took Maura's right hand in her left. Maura's breath hitched when she looked up into brown eyes, the two were so close together.

"Now, follow my lead. As we step just count one, two, three." Rizzoli waited for the right note before she led Maura and the two began to dance.

"One, two three. One, two, three." Maura whispered as she concentrated on counting.

"Louder!" The Italian shouted.

"One, two, three. One, two, three." The two shouted.

Signor Rizzoli led the young girl around the room as Maura got the hang of it.

"See! You're a natural." The older woman laughed before she decided to mix it up a bit.

As the two danced in a large circle around the hallway, in time with the music, the Italian waited for the right note before she held Maura by the waist with both hands and lifted her up.

"Oh my!" Maura giggled as she landed on the floor.

"You're as light as a feather Lady Isles." Rizzoli winked.

Maura couldn't help the laugh that escaped as the dark haired woman continued to pick the younger one up after every few notes. However, this time around, the Italian didn't place the blonde down, she held her up and spun around.

"Signor, Si-Signor!" Maura laughed as she was spun around and around.

The honey blonde couldn't stop laughing when Rizzoli finally put her down on the ground. The girl grabbed onto the older woman's shoulders to steady herself when she finally settled.

"Maura? What on earth are you doing?" Garrett snapped when he finally found his fiancée.

"Oh! Garrett." Maura tried to stop laughing.

"Where the hell have you been?" Garrett strode towards the blonde.

"I-I-I've been dancing." The smiled dropped from Maura's face.

"You've spent the past half hour dancing while I've been searching for you?" The young man scoffed.

"I am to blame; I was giving Lady Isles a tour of the building, since after all she will be staying here." Rizzoli smiled and Maura stared at her, wondering why she lied.

"We heard the music and I didn't give Lady Isles a chance to refuse my offer to dance." The Italian took another step closer to Maura.

"I see. Well next time I'd prefer if you'd ask me darling." Garrett looked down at his fiancée

"Why ask?" Rizzoli laughed.

"Sorry Signor?" Garrett furrowed his brows.

"She is her own person. I want to know why she should ask. She can make her own decisions can she not?" Rizzoli challenged.

"I appreciate your opinion Signor but our relationship is no concern of yours. If I ask my fiancée to tell me where she is, she will do just that." Garrett gritted through his teeth.

Rizzoli stared the dark haired man down until he looked away and cleared his throat.

"My fiancée seems to be quite taken with you Signor." Garrett attempted to change the subject.

"Who wouldn't be?" Rizzoli teased, throwing a small smile towards Maura.

"Ah, quite the jester aren't you?" The brown haired man said.

"I know how to keep the ladies entertained." Rizzoli quirked an eyebrow.

Maura had to bite back a laugh at Signor Rizzoli's comment, she watched her fiancé's eyes squint as he tried to understand the older woman's humour.

"Well, if you don't mind I'd like to steal my fiancée back." Garrett trailed off as he held out his arm for Maura to take. Rizzoli nodded and smiled towards the honey blonde.

"Of course." Rizzoli placed her hands behind her back and nodded to the man. Maura looked into dark eyes before she felt herself being led out of the small hallway and down the stairs.

"Darling, please don't disappear on me like that again." Garrett mumbled as he placed a kiss to his fiancée's temple.

"Disappear? I was only in another room." Maura scoffed.

"I know but you never told me, I was worried." Garrett tightened his grip around Maura's waist.

"You told me to find some ladies to gossip with." Maura defended.

"Exactly, _ladies_." Garrett snapped.

"Rizzoli is a lady." Maura pulled a face at her fiancé's change in mood.

"Signor Rizzoli may be a woman but she most certainly isn't a lady." Garrett laughed at the thought.

"Garrett, don't be so cruel." Maura pulled her arm from her future husband's embrace and pulled her mask to her face to keep her fiancé from seeing her flushed face.

"Let's not argue my dear. Shall we head back?" Garret whispered. Maura huffed but nodded.

Rizzoli watched from a hidden place as the young couple made their way out of the building and into their carriage. The Italian sighed, for the first time in all her life; someone had looked upon her with nothing but interest in their eyes. There was no fear or judgement, simply curiosity. Maybe it was the way the girl was brought up or maybe it was her age making her naive and innocent, either way, it was refreshing and Rizzoli counted the minutes until she would see that smile again.

* * *

**A/N:** I would just like to say that this story is my baby, I've been working on it for about two years and had planned on not posting until it's finished. However, with the show coming into its last season I fear I will lose my inspiration to write so I would like to share this story with you all and finished it while I still can! Updates will be far and few but I hope you're patient enough to stick with me!


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own Rizzoli &amp; Isles, most of the characters from this story belong to TNT and Tess Gerritsen.

I would like to thank **Ava** for beta reading this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter three**

Maura was awake, bathed, dressed and prepared for her miniature moving day before the sun had even risen. The young woman was beyond excited and wanted nothing more than to set off to that familiar mansion and begin setting up her room so she could finally settle in and start her new life for the next few months. The honey blonde beauty was glad to hear the sound of the older woman moving around downstairs, knowing there was no longer any need to tip toe around and avoid each creaking floor board. Maura ensured she made the bed and tidied up her small mess before placing her many cases by the bedroom door. The blonde smiled at herself in the mirror, she had chosen a casual pale green dress which hugged her figure and was easy to move around in, considering she would no doubt be spending her day unpacking. The young girl had tied her hair up into a pony tail, the ribbon matching her dress with a short fringe tucked behind her ears. Maura knew her hair styles were odd to see in Paris, many women had short clipped hair that was usually hidden by wigs and those who had shoulder length hair had it in a stylish bun on top of their heads. It was strange to see such long hair flowing freely in Paris but Maura would never allow anyone to cut more than two inches from her golden locks.

"Good morning Mrs. Cote." Maura smiled as she appeared from behind the red curtain separating the shop from the back room.

"Bonjour." The older woman smiled up from the needle and thread.

"Did you sleep well?" The grey haired woman asked.

"I did." Maura nodded.

"There's fresh tea on the stove." The older woman licked the end of the thread and attempted to place it through the small needle.

"Oh no, thank you." The blonde sighed happily.

Maura took a few minutes to look around the room. It was small and dainty but enough for four or five people to stand comfortably. The young woman smiled at the small pedestal surrounded by mirrors. Maura imagined standing there one day, her wedding dress being fitted; she smiled at the thought.

"What was all of that banging around this morning?" The widow laughed as she began weaving in and out of the black fabric resting on her lap.

"Oh, I am so sorry! I was busy packing." Maura's cheeks turned a light pink.

"Packing? You've found a vacancy have you?" Mrs. Cote stilled her movement and looked up into hazel eyes. The older woman didn't mind the blonde staying in her spare room; however over the years of being alone, she'd grown accustomed to the silence of her own company. Although Garrett would most likely be moving back in, she barely saw him. The man was gone before the older woman was up and came in after she was in bed.

"Yes thankfully. Although you have been awfully kind for allowing me to stay here overnight, I would much prefer my fiancé was under a sturdy roof and in a warm bed." Maura laughed.

"Signor Rizzoli was kind enough and offered me a room for as long as I need." The blonde ran her finger along a piece of silk sitting on the counter.

"You're staying with Signor Rizzoli?" Mrs. Cote gasped.

"Yes." The blonde looked at the woman whose eyebrows were practically in her hair line.

"What is that expression for?" Maura laughed.

"Well, it's just, Signor Rizzoli isn't exactly known for her hospitality." The older woman scoffed.

"The ball she hosted last night was spectacular." Maura furrowed her brows.

"Ah yes but I can't imagine she made much of an effort to approach her guests?" Mrs. Cote smiled.

"Well, not particularly, no. But not many of her guests took the time to approach her." Maura defended.

"Besides, she was polite enough to talk with me when I approached her." Maura grinned as she remembered the way the Italian led her onto the roof. Mrs. Cote eyed the young girl and wondered what that look was in her eyes; they seemed to brighten when she spoke of that monster.

"I've never laid eyes on her, nor have I ever approached nor been approached by Signor Rizzoli. I simply make her suits and keep myself to myself." The older woman smiled.

"You do?" The blonde beamed at the older woman.

"Oui. It's never under her name but no man has hips that thin." Mrs. Cote laughed.

"I just pay my rent and don't give her a second thought. I'd rather not have the woman upon my door with her silver death head at my throat." The older woman looked up at Maura. She'd heard stories of both men and women who refused to pay their rent had, had a sword at their throats when passing a dark alley or in the comforts of their own homes. Nothing could be seen but the shimmer of the death head sword and that white mask in the darkness. It was something the seamstress wanted to avoid at all costs.

"Good morning darling." Garrett's voice rang through the room followed by a gentle ring as he entered the shop.

"Morning." Maura smiled up at her fiancé and accepted the small peck on her lips.

She smiled at her love wearing yet, another suit, although more casual, she wondered why he was dressed so nicely when he promised to spend the day working on the house.

"Did you sleep well?" Garrett took Maura's hands in his own and held them tightly.

"Barely, I found I was far too excited for today." Maura couldn't hold back a smile.

"Excited? Oh how sweet." Garrett laughed.

"Has anyone arrived yet?" The young man asked.

"No. Not yet." Maura smiled.

"Typical." The American huffed.

"Darling, the sun has barely risen." Maura whispered.

"Does the Italian think I have nothing better to do? That I don't have a house to build?" Garrett snapped.

"Then don't accompany me my love. I don't need an escort." Maura rubbed her fiancé's bicep.

"Don't be ridiculous. Do you think I'd leave my fiancée alone in a carriage with a stranger?" The man laughed.

Before Maura could reply, there was a knock at the door. Garrett and Maura turned to the small window by the door. Garrett furrowed his brow and puffed out his chest when he saw a young, tall, large built boy standing on the step.

"Can I help you boy?" Garrett eyed the man's appearance.

A small black Bowler hat on top of the man's short clipped black hair. He wore a white shirt, with the first few buttons open, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, that was tucked into light beige pants. Brown suspenders holding up the pants and dark scruffy shoes covered in dirt.

"I'm here on behalf of Signor Rizzoli to escort Lady Isles and her things." Garrett's eyes went wide when he realised the boy had an American accent.

"Signor Rizzoli sent _you_?" The dark haired man nodded his head.

"Garrett." Maura warned as she appeared by her fiancé's side.

"What? The '_Signor'_ sent a _nigger_ to escort a lady?" Garrett barked.

"Signor Rizz-" The younger man ignored the comment about his skin color and attempted to get on with his given task.

"Signor Rizzoli clearly doesn't know how to treat a Lady." Garrett shook his head.

"Garrett, don't be so cruel! I do not care what color skin the man has, and neither should you." Maura whispered in her fiancé's ear.

"If you want to be raped and murdered, then be my guest and get into that carriage." The white man turned on his love.

The other man stood by and shook his head; he dreaded to think what Rizzoli would do if she ever heard the way this American by birth was speaking to whom he assumed was Lady Isles. Frost could see why Rizzoli seemed so taken with her, she hadn't said much other than describing her beauty and where to find her but from the guards and servants back at Rizzoli's house, this young, innocent looking blonde was the only one to approach Signor Rizzoli for no other reason than to talk to her.

"The luggage is upstairs boy, be quick about it." Garrett snapped as he lightly pushed past his fiancée and nodded towards the stairs.

Frost took off his hat and walked further into the room when he made eye contact with the blonde, he was surprised to receive a warm smile.

"Lady Isles." Frost smiled and he bowed his head.

"Oh please, it's Maura." The hazel eyed girl smiled.

Frost was happy the girl clearly wasn't like her fiancé and he understood, despite the few seconds he spent in her presence why she approached Rizzoli, she was curious.

"No, it's Lady Isles." Garrett barked as he placed his arm across the stairway, preventing the man from going up.

"If one thing and I mean _one thing_ goes missing from either my fiancée's or Mrs. Cote's possessions, I will ensure you lose a hand." Garrett stared into the dark eyes of the other man.

"I don't need to steal anythin' that aint mine. Signor Rizzoli makes certain I have everything I need." With that Frost pushed past Garrett and headed upstairs.

"I cannot believe you treated him like that!" Maura shook her head at her fiancé.

"He's nothing but a peasant." Garrett shrugged.

"He's a human being." Maura snapped.

"He's a nigger." The dark haired man laughed.

"Garrett, stop it!" The blonde yelled.

"Lower your damn voice." The American grabbed Maura's wrist and gave Mrs. Cote a small smile over his fiancée's shoulder.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that again, especially when we are in the presence of company." Garrett spat, his grip tightening around the younger girl's wrist.

"Do I make myself clear?" The man whispered.

"Y-yes." Maura fought back tears and finally pulled her wrist free.

"Good." Garrett leaned forward and kissed the reluctant lips of his lover.

"Shall we?" A strong hand wrapped around Maura's thin waist and led her towards the carriage that would take them to the mansion Maura had seen in her dreams and before she knew it, she would be face to face with that intriguing woman again.

* * *

It had just gone noon by the time the young couple arrived at Signor Rizzoli's home. Frost had packed everything as safely as possible on the carriage and set off towards the mansion before stopping close to the entrance, making it easier to carry the luggage. Maura and Garrett had barely spoke during the ride, the blonde had been far more interested in the journey she had done once before, however this time, it was day time and she could see everything clearly; Paris really was wonderful.

"Thank you." Maura whispered as Frost ensured she got out of the carriage safely before brushing out the wrinkles on her dress.

Garrett stared at Frost the whole time until the man busied himself in getting the bags unstrapped from the back of the carriage.

"This estate is truly beautiful." Maura smiled all around at the scenery.

"I don't like it." Garrett shook his head.

"How could you possibly dislike anything this stunning?" The honey blonde asked.

"It's very demanding." The man laughed.

"How?" Maura was intrigued by her fiancé's opinion.

"Anyone in their right mind can tell Rizzoli has inherited a vast amount of wealth from the size of her mansion. I don't see the need for the large gates and walls, the huge gardens and not to mention the guards surrounding the place, all of this for one person? It's rather drastic." Garrett scoffed.

"Signor Rizzoli did not inherit her wealth, she earned it." The blonde whispered.

"Oh please, she is a woman, the only way a woman can have money is from inheritance or from whoring herself." Garrett chuckled.

"And from the looks of things Rizzoli isn't a whore, I mean she would have no clients." The young man laughed.

"Well, I think this place is beautiful." The young girl mumbled ignoring her fiancé's cruel comment.

"You think anything you haven't seen before is beautiful." Garrett mocked.

"And you find nothing beautiful." Maura whispered.

"Not true. I think you're beautiful." The dark haired man decided to let his fiancée's comment slide and use his charm on her.

"You really are your father's son." The blonde laughed.

"If I'm lucky enough to marry the most stunning woman in Paris I can live with that comment." The American teased as he took his lover's hand and followed the black man into the mansion.

* * *

Before the two knew it, they were standing in the ballroom once again, however this time it was completely bare, leaving nothing but a few tables. It was hard to believe a ball had taken place the previous night, the room was spotless. Frost carefully placed the honey blonde's cases down on the floor and looked up to the balcony where he waited for the figure to appear from the shadows. The man smirked to himself as he watched the young girl stare all around the room in amazement, her mouth wide open.

"Lady Isles." Maura gasped when she heard that deep, husky voice echoing off the walls.

The young beauty looked to the staircase to see the Phantom standing at the balcony and swore her heart skipped a beat. The woman looked as mesmerizing as before dressed in yet another black suit, with a plain white shirt underneath with all the buttons fastened right up to a defined chin. Signor Rizzoli's hair was again pulled back in a ponytail barely a strand touching that tainted face, hidden by that same white mask. Although not as formal as the previous night the phantom looked as alluring as ever. Maura smiled when she noticed, despite her more casual appearance, her sword was still at her side.

"Mr. Fairfield." Rizzoli nodded to the man after finding the strength to look away from the natural beauty.

"How wonderful it is to see you both." Signor Rizzoli smiled at the young couple as she made her way down the stairs.

"Likewise." Garrett smiled.

"I-I apologize for my appearance, I didn't expect you to be greeting us." The blonde laughed nervously as she looked down at what she could only describe as her indoor clothing.

"I thought you would be busy with some form of business." Maura blushed and tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from her ribbon, behind her ear.

"You are my guest, I will always find time. As for your appearance…" Rizzoli trailed off, a hint of teasing in her tone.

"Well, you look just as beautiful in casual clothing as you did in a ball gown." The Italian grinned.

"True beauty isn't in the clothing, it's in the features." Signor Rizzoli whispered and watched as the young girl flushed pink.

The honey blonde and the beast continued to stare at each other from a distance, both forgetting the two men standing in the room, one holding back a smile and the other rocking on the heels of his feet.

"Is there a point to the mask Signor?" The American cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry?" Rizzoli had been so lost in those hazel eyes; she failed to hear what the boy said.

"Your mask, is there a reason you're still wearing it?" Garrett asked, curiosity getting the better of him. However, Maura could have died from embarrassment in that very moment. Was her fiancé that oblivious he had to ask? Across the room, Frost was holding his breath anticipating the woman's response, he knew how sensitive the subject was and never in his years of knowing the monster had he ever even considered asking.

"I mean, I gather from your guards stressing the importance of putting on my mask before I entered the building last night that you're fond of them. But surely you realise how ridiculous you appear wearing it in everyday life?" Garrett chuckled as he looked to his fiancée for support.

"Darling." Maura's whisper was a quiet plea.

"Maura, we've talked about this. Please don't interrupt me when I'm talking." Garrett mumbled.

"Sorry, of course." The young girl looked down at her feet; she could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks.

Rizzoli watched the man silence his fiancée, although under his breath, due to the size of the room and the lack of people, the words he thought to be whispers bounced off the walls and met the Italian's ears as though they were spoken right in to her ear.

"Fairfield." The monster's harsh voice spoke loud and clear. Garrett snapped his head from his love to Rizzoli.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't disregard your fiancée in my presence." Signor Rizzoli made short work of walking down the last few marble steps.

"Excuse me? As I've made clear before our relationship is n-"

"No concern of mine?" The disfigured woman was leaning down, almost nose to nose with the arrogant boy. Garrett stared into those furious dark eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat; Rizzoli was a good few inches taller than him.

"I'm aware your relationship is strictly between Lady Isles and yourself and you feel strongly that I have no business interfering." The Italian gave a small smirk as she watched the man tremble.

"_However_, this is my home and now Lady Isles' temporary residences and I will not allow you or anyone else to speak to her with such disrespect." Despite the threatening words, the American was unable to look away from that mask.

Maura watched as Signor Rizzoli got closer and closer to her fiancé. She shivered as they squared up and stood barely an inch away from each other. Although the young girl appreciated someone defending her honor; she was taken aback by how ruthless the Italian sounded.

"Do I make myself clear?" Rizzoli yelled making both Maura and Garrett jump back in fear.

"Y-yes Signor." The dark haired man stuttered.

"Good." The taller woman stepped back and was about to give the blonde a smile but found she was staring at the ground. Rizzoli suddenly felt awful, she clearly terrified the young girl.

"I expect you're both peckish from the journey. Would you like something to eat?" The Italian's voice turned back to its gentle self.

"N-no thank you. I need to get going if I ever want to get that house finished." Garrett found the distance much more comfortable.

"Understandable." Rizzoli nodded. She looked to Lady Isles to find her still staring at the floor.

"Would you like me to order a carriage to take you back?" The monster offered, unable to hide how much she wanted this man out of her house.

"That would be greatly appreciated." The American nodded, he hadn't thought about how he planned on returning to the house.

"Frost." The Phantom nodded to the young man who had simply stood by and watched as everything transpired.

"Right away, Signor." The boy headed for the door.

"No. Get Gaston to take Mr. Fairfield into town. I want you here." Rizzoli turned to the young man.

"Yes Signor." The black man disappeared before returning shortly with a middle aged man with a bold chest and grey hair.

"Ensure Mr. Fairfield arrives safely at his soon to be home." Gaston nodded and headed for the door to prepare the carriage.

"Thank you Signor." Garret swallowed the lump in his throat as he risked a small smile of appreciation. The phantom simply nodded.

"I would suggest we could meet for dinner but I assume you'll be exhausted after your day of unpacking so I shall leave you to settle in." The young man whispered to his fiancée, taking her delicate hands in his own.

"O-okay." The blonde's voice shook, still taken aback from the Italian's outburst.

"I'll stop by tomorrow, if I have time." The American smiled and leaned forward for a brief kiss, catching the monster looking away from the corner of his eye.

"Perhaps when the house is further along, I can take you on a tour." Garrett nodded his head as he released his fiancée's hands.

"Your carriage is ready Monsieur." Gaston's hesitant voice said.

"I shall see you soon my love." The young boy whispered.

"Always a pleasure Signor." Garret glanced towards the Italian before leaving the property, not bothering to even acknowledge the young black man.

The phantom watched the young man until he was out of sight before letting a small smile slip past her usual stern look.

"So, would the Lady like a proper tour of the building before she settles in?" Rizzoli grinned and stepped closer to the blonde, only to have her jump back slightly.

The Italian furrowed her dark brows and placed both hands behind her back as though they'd been burnt. Rizzoli stared at the young girl and tried to meet her eyes but she continued to stare at the floor and suddenly Signor Rizzoli realised she must have really scared the young girl.

"I see." Rizzoli whispered and moved back a few steps, giving the young child as much room as possible.

"Frost, see Lady Isles to her room and ensure her bags follow." The monster's voice was back to business.

"Yes Signor." Frost nodded his head and grabbed as much luggage as he could carry.

"Be certain she is comfortable with her accommodations and give her anything she requires." With that the brunette turned and quickly made her way back up the marble stairs.

"Thank you Signor Rizzoli." A small voice murmured.

"You never have to thank me." The Italian turned as she reached the top step to face the young girl from a distance to see she had finally lifted her head.

"For _anything_." Dark eyes finally met uncertain hazel green ones as a long silence filled the room until the phantom disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

**A/N**: I am currently taking one shot requests, including GP, feel free to message me!


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own Rizzoli &amp; Isles, most of the characters in this story belong to Tess Gerritsen and TNT.

I would like to thank **Ava** for beta reading this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Large white doors with golden handles was the first thing Maura noticed when Frost led her up a small staircase informing her this was her own private quarters, complete with a wash room and sitting room. Maura gasped when the young man opened the doors to the room she would be staying in, she expected something small and simple but in fact she had the exact opposite. The walls were painted a clean white with large portraits of angels scattered around the room. A large full length mirror with a golden frame covered the fourth wall, so big it touched the solid stone floor as well as the ceiling. Golden tables surrounded three out of the four corners with a huge vase holding a dozen red roses sitting proudly, Maura swore she'd never seen roses so red in her life.

Large candle holders sat on either side of the mirror as well as dotted throughout the large sitting room, all new and never lit the wax in perfect condition. A huge bay window letting in all the light needed was on the third wall, showing off the gorgeous grounds and fields with horses running freely in the distance. A dark black chaise lounge rested just underneath the window, allowing the girl to sit easy as she looked at the view. A wooden desk sat in the far corner of the room with paper and ink sitting in the middle. The young girl's mouth hung open as she pushed another door to find a much smaller bedroom complete with a four poster bed, covered in silk and satin material, not a crease in sight. The blonde's heart was in her mouth and she tried her best to contain her excitement when she noticed the huge wardrobe sitting in the room, it was as if Signor Rizzoli knew. Maura noticed a black screen in the corner, allowing her to undress in privacy, not that it was needed with her own quarters but she appreciated the thought.

* * *

The young blonde woke from a surprising yet well needed rest after falling asleep on her new bed, covered with white silk and feathered pillows. The girl stretched out her body and sighed happily, she adored this room. After the initial shock of how stunning the room was Maura realised it was bare and very plain. However, after spending her morning unpacking and placing her odds and ends around the room, it finally looked homey to say the least. The young girl kicked off the covers from her body and walked through to the sitting room to see the sun shining through, although sitting low in the sky she estimated it must have been late afternoon. Maura sat on the chaise lounge and watched in the distance as three men struggled to round up the horses, each holding metal buckets which she assume was full of carrots or apples, hoping to entice them; it seemed to be failing. The young girl laced up her boots and stood hoping to locate the kitchen, finding herself regretting skipping breakfast with all the excitement going on.

As the child headed for the door, she noticed a brown piece of parchment sitting on the desk with what appeared to be a single red rose with a long green stem and something attached to it. The blonde's curiosity peaked as she picked up the rose to find it was a black satin bow tied around the stem with a letter with the words '_Lady Isles_' written in black ink on the envelope. Maura furrowed her brow as she picked up the letter and noticed it was sealed with a red stamp in the shape of a skull. Carefully the blonde opened the seal and pulled out the fresh crisp paper and read the words that for some unknown reason made her heart flutter.

_"__Lady Isles,_

_I pray you found the room to be fitting and comfortable for your taste. I picked such a beautiful room with you in mind, a beautiful room for such a beautiful young lady._

_I hope you enjoy your stay here and know anything you require my servants are at your mercy._

_Yours always,_

_J.R_

Maura couldn't hide the smile from her face as she read each word over and over how could such simple words be the cause of a smile so bright? The young girl quickly placed the letter in the dark desk and locked it before heading out of her room in search of some food.

* * *

Lost, she was completely lost, Maura knew she was on the main floor as she'd retraced her steps earlier and had passed the ballroom but to her dismay she found the surrounding rooms to be empty, usually she would ask one of the many guards standing around but she thought if she was ever going to learn this building when better to start than now? The young girl smiled as she passed portrait after portrait of scenery, lush fields, blue waterfalls and beautiful flowers painted so perfectly on the left side of the main hallway. Large windows to the right letting in as much light as possible before night time took over and the dull maroon curtains covered the glass. Maura found herself humming a melody her mother used to sing to her as a child as she passed an open door, leading out onto a small balcony, usually the child would pass finding the sun to be a strain on her fair complexion but the sound of metal clanging against metal caught her attention. The girl walked onto the balcony to find it lead to a small arena like area with stairs on either side giving access to the ground below. The first thing Maura noticed was the grains of what she thought to be sand sitting freely on the balcony, as her eyes led her down, she noticed it looked to be a training ground of some sort. Wooden figures covered with a sack of hay for a body and head stood tall with targets painted on them, a small anvil and forge in the far corner to forge strong weapons but what really surprised Lady Isles and made her heart pound in her chest were the two figures dancing around the miniature area, duelling with real swords

"Counter, counter, strike." Signor Rizzoli's husky voice boomed off the stone walls.

Maura felt a strange feeling of what many people often described as butterflies fluttering away in her stomach as she watched the beautiful woman holding a serious look as she lead Frost around the arena, countering his every strike with a simple flick of her wrist. The young girl noticed Frost was using a rather old looking sword whereas Signor Rizzoli was duelling with her stunning silver weapon with the death handle shining brightly.

"Come on boy, I have one hand behind my back." The Italian snapped and Maura watched the sweat drip down tanned skin as the young man struggled to keep up with the older woman's stamina.

"I will get ya Rizzoli." The boy grinned before he struck low with the hope of catching the Italian off guard. However, Rizzoli caught the move before the boy even processed it and without hesitation slipped her foot behind the man's leg, just below his hamstring and brought his strong body down to the ground.

"Shit!" Frost yelled out as he fell to the ground, the dirt rising up in a small cloud.

Maura watched and fought back a smile when she heard Signor Rizzoli release a whole hearted laugh at the man on his backside, struggling to stand back on his feet. The blonde had a moment to inspect the older woman's outfit, now that she was standing still, hovering over the boy. Although, now dressed much more casual, the girl thought she still looked so alluring in a once white shirt, now more cream than white with the first three buttons open, revealing a strong neck and defined jaw, a thin layer of sweat coating the tanned skin, flickering away in the sun. Both sleeves rolled up tightly to the woman's elbow, ensuring she had no distraction while fighting and black leather gloves fit perfectly to each hand. Lady Isles subconsciously found her mouth to be dry when she noticed the tight black leather pants coming up to her waist, showing off her slim figure and thin hips, with a surprisingly firm buttocks. Maura blushed at the thought and admired the black knee high boots laced tightly covered in dirt and of course that mask hiding away the left side of the mysterious face.

"Had enough?" Signor Rizzoli suggested as she slipped her sword back into the black scabbard and held out her glove covered hand.

"Not a chance." Frost took the offered hand and brushed down his clothing before standing ready.

"En garde." Rizzoli whipped her sword out so quickly, Maura almost missed it.

"Fight!" The young man yelped with the intention of catching the Italian off guard as he struck forward.

The dark haired woman continued to step back as the man stuck with all his strength attempting to knock her to the ground, the two danced around the small area a few times before Frost delivered a hard blow up above, the brunette just about caught it, finding the sun in her eyes throwing her off slightly. Just as Rizzoli managed to push back from the gridlock the two were in, she blinked rapidly, seeing a bright flash of whiteness for a few seconds before she regained her sight, only then noticing the blonde haired beauty leaning over the balcony, watching the two duel, an amazed smile on her face. The young girl straightened up and blushed slightly when she realised Signor Rizzoli was looking at her a questioning look in her dark eyes.

However, the young man was oblivious to Rizzoli's frozen state and the young girl standing behind him as he managed to regain his balance. With the adrenaline rushing through his veins the only thing he noticed was the brunette had lowered her guard slightly, giving him the perfect opportunity to strike and strike hard. Frost swung his sword so hard against the limp grip of the older woman; it sent her backwards, almost to the ground. The brunette raised her hand holding the sword as she stumbled slightly but didn't counter giving the boy the chance for victory. Frost was so excited he'd finally managed to knock her down; he didn't realise how hard he was pushing until he felt his sword make contact with her arm and watched as it sliced right through the thin material of her shirt.

"Got ya!" Frost yelled in victory, failing to notice the thick blood covering his sword.

"Shit." Signor Rizzoli growled as she grabbed her upper left arm with her free hand, instantly regretting dropping her attention from the fight to the beauty watching.

"Oh my." Maura gasped when she watched the woman stumble back, grabbing her arm in pain.

The monster continued to counter each strike the boy threw at her, oblivious to the damage he had caused, however, the woman wasn't going down without a fight, the Italian blocked everything he threw at her until their swords met in the middle both pushing with equal strength and the second Frost noticed Rizzoli was moving the sword down slowly, he knew right away he was done for. The older woman caught the handle of Frost sword in her own and used all her strength to release both swords, sending Frost's weapon flying to the ground before she delivered a harsh kick to his ankle and watched as he fell to the ground, again.

"Damn it!" The man barked as he found himself on his ass.

Maura grinned when she watched Signor Rizzoli knock the man to the ground for a second time, surprised by her swordsmanship and skill but the smile dropped from her face as she watched the woman release her arm to find blood covering her glove and soaking her white shirt crimson.

"Shit did I cut ya too deep?" Frost jumped up sheepishly, when he noticed the excessive amount of blood.

"A little, nothing to worry about." The Italian gritted her teeth in pain before sliding her sword back in it's holster.

"Signor, that' a lotta blood." The boy rubbed the back of his neck.

"Signor Rizzoli, are you okay?" The young girl's worried voice rang out as she darted across the sand, not bothering to lift her dress.

"I-I'm fine Lady Isles." The Italian shrugged both concerned parties off.

"Let me see please." Maura asked politely as she reached out.

"It's nothing, a scratch is all." The brunette continued as she moved her arm out of the way.

"That is not a scratch; the blade has pierced your skin." Maura furrowed her brow and grabbed the Italian's arm just below the wound.

"It may need stitches." The girl inspected the large gash.

"Frost, could you please fetch some warm water and clean rags if possible?" Lady Isles asked the young man.

"Right away." The boy ran straight up the stairs and into the building.

"I said it's fine." The monster barked.

"And I said it's not." Maura was surprised by her own forcefulness, as was the Italian.

"Come on; let's sit so I can examine the wound better." The blonde didn't give the older woman any choice as she pushed her towards the small wall.

"I'm just going to roll your sleeve up a little more okay?" Maura whispered as she gently pulled the thin material free from the sticky wound, not missing the way Rizzoli tightened her jaw.

"Move your hand." Rizzoli pushed away the delicate hands of the child and slowly ripped the sleeve from her arm, giving the woman all the access she needed.

"Oh." Maura was impressed to say the least by the strong toned bicep of the woman.

"It's ruined anyway." The brunette grunted.

"I'd say." The young girl tried a small smile.

"Here ya go Lady Isles." Frost returned out of breath with a small bowl of water and rags.

"Thank you and please, call me Maura." The girl held her breath, waiting for Garrett's voice to ring out and contradict her but she heard nothing and remembered that she wasn't in the company of her fiancé.

"With all due respect, I'll stick to Lady Isles if ya don't mind." The man danced on the heels of his feet.

"If it pleases you." Maura shrugged and dipped a rag into the warm water.

"This may sting a little." The blonde warned before pressing the warm cloth to the wound.

"Ah! Fanculo!" Signor Rizzoli yelled as she moved back, glaring at the blonde.

"I warned you it would hurt!" Maura snapped.

"You said it would sting a little!" Rizzoli furrowed her dark brow.

"Exactly, a warning! Now stop hiding your insults in Italian and get back here!" The blonde raised her voice and gave the brunette a stern look.

Signor Rizzoli stared at the young girl with fire in her eyes, her chest heaving and her nostrils flaring as she got her temper under control before she slowly slid closer to the blonde.

"Now, that wasn't so hard was it?" Maura mocked with a small smile. Rizzoli scoffed and gave the boy a look that made him nod his head and disappear back inside.

"And it wasn't meant as an insult." The brunette huffed.

"More of an exclamation." Rizzoli whispered.

"I should hope so." The girl smiled and gently placed the cloth back on the wound and watched the brunette groan and tense.

* * *

A gentle silence developed between the two women as Rizzoli continued to hold back a yelp each time the blonde moved the rag whereas Maura was being as careful as possible as she inspected the wound. Rizzoli released a sigh and opened her eyes to find the young child's nose nearly touching her arm as her eyebrows furrowed as she concentrated. The Phantom's lips turned up in a smile at how adorable the child looked, taking something so small so seriously.

"Well, the good thing is, it looks deeper than what it is and you won't be needing stitches." Maura glanced up and caught those intense brown eyes staring at her. The girl blushed and cleared her throat.

"Ahem,-I-I just need to clean up the wound and wrap it and it should heal without much trouble if you rest your arm." Lady Isles sat back and dipped the blood stained cloth into the water before grabbing a dry rag and dabbed the wound before she slowly began wrapping it.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you this morning." Rizzoli whispered and the blonde stopped her movement and looked up.

"I-I sometimes struggle to control my temper and allow my own personal opinions to get the better of me." The brunette looked down.

"I see. Well it was a harsh blow to Garrett's ego I can assure you." Maura shrugged.

"I won't apologize for my behaviour towards the boy. I'm sure his arrogance is somewhat amusing however unintentional if he were still residing in America but he is not. His home is Paris now and many people find that personality unbecoming of a man who appears to have been brought up to be a gentleman." Rizzoli snapped, in the same tone from earlier that morning.

"I never asked you to apologize." Maura's voice trembled and she occupied herself with wrapping up the injured arm.

"God-I-I'm sorry, I'm doing it again." The older woman groaned.

"I'm not very good when it comes to socialising; I'm sure many would find my attitude to be distasteful." The brunette ran her free hand through her now sweaty hair.

"Well, I find you endearing and I appreciate how you stood up for my honor. Heaven knows I would never have the courage to do it." The blonde smiled as she tied a knot in the bandage.

"All done." Maura looked up and grinned at the slightly curly hair of the Italian after hours in the sun.

"Thank you, Doctor Isles." Rizzoli winked as she looked down at her arm, only realising the pain had died down.

"You're welcome." The blonde sighed.

"You must find it very uncomfortable wearing that mask in this heat." Maura opened her mouth before she processed what she said.

"Oh my, I-I'm sorr-I didn't mea-" The blonde stuttered of her words.

"Don't apologize, it's only natural you're curious but as for my mask and the heat? Well I'm used to it by now." The monster gave a sad smile as she looked down at her gloves covered in blood and slowly pulled the right glove off, so comfortable she forgot where she was.

"Oh my heavens." The girl gasped when she saw the hand, gloveless and bare, a thick rigid lump sticking up from the palm.

Rizzoli's eyes went wide when she realised what she had done, the older woman struggled to pull the glove back on, the darn fingers inside out, desperate to hide the horrid sight from such a beauty.

"No, please don't!" Maura begged and slowly reached out for the injured hand.

Signor Rizzoli held her breath and Maura watched her body tense as she held the calloused, damaged hand in her own, delicate ones. Her mind instantly went back to the previous night when she felt a lump on both hands and wondered. The brunette had her eyes shut tight as she felt a soft, gentle finger run slowly along the scar tissue, curious of such a scar left in such a vital place. The monster expected the girl to push away the hand and run but after a few minutes she realised the girl was still tracing her hand.

"I bet they hurt when winter comes." Maura whispered her thumb tracing each finger.

"Y-yes. M-my fingers bend inwards and I can barely feel them." Rizzoli mumbled, ashamed of her damaged hands.

"Could I possibly see your left hand?" The blonde looked up into confused, scared brown eyes. The phantom furrowed her brow but quickly held out her left hand for the girl to see.

Maura smiled a soft, gentle smile and used her thumb and forefinger to slowly pull the leather glove off the much larger hand to reveal a twin scar, the scar tissue much thicker on the left.

"My god, how do you manage to duel with such, such-"

"Broken? Damaged? Deformed?" Rizzoli asked.

"_Cold_ hands." Maura watched the older woman's face soften and she wondered who hurt someone so kind and caring. Although Maura had no idea how she got these scars she knew right away the mask and her hands were the reason for her foul temper.

"C-c-cold?" The brunette raised an eyebrow.

"You barely have any circulation going through them. Look at them, they're practically blue." Maura whispered.

"I've adjusted, had no choice." The dark haired woman shrugged.

"You need to massage them-like this see?" Maura smiled as she slowly pressed down hard along the scarring in a circular rotation and she swore she heard the Italian release a moan.

"W-why?" Rizzoli managed to ask, her eyes closed, the contact felt so good. The older woman failed to remember the last time she allowed anyone to touch her hands, her bare hands, let alone see the scars left behind by a true monster.

"It helps the blood flow through the damaged tissue; they'll regain their color and warmth within a few minutes." The girl smiled up when she realized the phantom was staring down at her, a sudden warmth and caring in her eyes.

"How do you know all of this?" The brunette asked as she found herself relaxing around the child.

"Back in Boston, I once treated a prisoner who tried to escape. Apparently, he was good with his hands, an artist, well a painter to be precise. The guard who caught him tied him to the back of his carriage and dragged him through the city before tying him up to a tree, naked, for everyone to see what would happen if they disobeyed the law. And to teach him a lesson, the chief of police shot him through his hands, know-"

"Knowing he'd never be able to paint again." Rizzoli shook her head, she knew America was bad, she just didn't realise how bad.

"Exactly, no doctor in town would treat him, even the man I was assisting at the time wouldn't go near him." Maura sighed.

"But you did?" Rizzoli raised an eyebrow.

"I couldn't stand to see him in pain; he was dying from the blood loss so I begged the chief to let me tend to him. He laughed in my face as I was a woman but allowed it in order to make a mockery of my work, but after several months when he realised the man's hands were healing, he allowed me access to anyone in the city, mostly his guards, to fix them up now and then, even the prisoners." The blonde chuckled.

"What did he do? The man?" Signor Rizzoli oddly found herself interested.

"I believe he punched a guard who urinated on his painting that took three years to complete of a naked woman. Apparently it's fit for men to attend cathouses and sleep with as many women as possible but it's wrong for a man to paint a nude portrait of his own wife." Maura scoffed.

"The world is full of terrible people." The brunette sighed.

"With some good." Maura smiled.

"Like you." Rizzoli smirked and stretched out her hands, finding the usual blue colour to have disappeared and her fingers much more flexible.

"You're a miracle worker Lady Isles." The phantom chuckled.

"My given name is Maura. Please use it." The blonde teased.

"Sorry La-Maura!" Rizzoli and the young girl burst out laughing.

"I can actually feel my fingers!" The dark haired woman beamed.

"If you allow me to massage them at least three times a day, the circulation will surely come back." Maura smiled when suddenly her stomach rumbled so loud, she blushed furiously as Rizzoli laughed.

"I see you're hungry!" Rizzoli jumped up.

"Would you like me to escort you to the kitchen?" Rizzoli asked.

"I'd much prefer if you accompanied me for a late lunch. If you don't have more important things to attend to." The young girl whispered.

"Y-you want me to join you? For lunch?" Rizzoli furrowed her dark brow.

"Yes." The girl smiled.

"B-but I'm a mess, I look like a disaster." Rizzoli glanced down at her messy attire and pulled on her gloves.

"It's just lunch." Maura shrugged.

"I-if you insist." The brunette cleared her throat.

"I do." Maura grinned.

"Just a moment Signor Rizzoli." Maura stopped and pulled back the brunette.

"I believe you promised me an answer." The blonde hid a smile.

"An answer?" The Italian furrowed her brows.

"To my question." Maura smirked.

"Your…question?" The monster struggled to remember this question.

"You promised to tell me your name…when the time was right." Maura looked up hopefully.

"And what better time than now?" The blonde smiled.

"I believe I did." Rizzoli chuckled.

"So, go on, do tell." Maura jumped on the spot.

"My names is Jane. Jane Rizzoli." Dark eyes looked into excited hazel ones; certain this was the start to a truly beautiful relationship.


End file.
